


Goodbye

by Silvery_Moon_Thing



Series: The Flux Chronicles [3]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Death, F/M, Lots and Lots of Death, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 16:35:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silvery_Moon_Thing/pseuds/Silvery_Moon_Thing
Summary: This.This is going to be a fun week.(For me, of course.)Oh, and don't fool yourself: this is in no way a "gift". /This is a nightmare./





	1. Trott

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThePrettiestOfLights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrettiestOfLights/gifts).



> This.  
> This is going to be a fun week.  
> (For me, of course.)  
> Oh, and don't fool yourself: this is in no way a "gift". /This is a nightmare./

For Trott, the last thirty minutes or so were a blur. He hazily remembered Kim tying him up and telling him her tragic story, and thought there had been something about a chalk circle, though he wasn't too sure on that one. One thing he did remember clearly, though, was the white light. He remembered lying on his back, Kim holding her knife menacingly above him, presumably about to carve him like a turkey, before a bright white light came in from the back, consuming her without a sound, but also pulling him in in an instant. He had immediately passed out, and had doubted that he would even survive, but against the odds, he had woken up, surrounded by darkness and sore all over. Hesitant, he opened his eyes.

Looking around, he saw that he still couldn't actually see anything. Based on the rocks jutting into his back, however, he was able to deduce that he was laying on his back, though he couldn't tell which direction he was facing, up or down. Trying to move his arms, he found that they were completely surrounded by what felt like a random mix of stone, dirt, and sand, as well as a whole bunch of other things he couldn't even feel, let alone identify. "At least my arms are untied," he muttered under his breath.

Attempting to adjust his feet, he found that his legs were in a similar configuration. The air inside his little cocoon was warm and sticky, so he tried to sit up so that he could at least get some air that wasn't already completely used up and foggy. However, he immediately discovered that there was only enough space that he didn't actually feel the top when he laid perfectly down against the stone on the bottom. "Oi! Ross! Smiffy! Get over here! Help!" Deep down, he knew that unless they had been in Hat Corp. until the time of the explosion and then had started running as soon as it was over, there was no way they could be here right now. That was, if he hadn't been passed out for three weeks. Any amount of time more than two hours or so would probably render his sense of time completely useless, seeing as he wouldn't have any relativity as to when anything happened. Yelling again, aware that he only had approximately 30 minutes of oxygen left, if he was lucky, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "Ross! Smiffy! One of you blokes get over here!"

Nothing.

Using his hands to feel around the rocks encasing him, he found that although it was inconsistent and bumpy, there were absolutely no holes in the walls. He was completely closed in. That meant he only had 20 minutes of air left.

Not quite giving up yet, he attempted to punch the rock to his side. He didn't really get much leverage, but even if he had, he wouldn't have gotten much of anything anywhere, and at least this way he wouldn't be collapsing stone onto himself. After only a few hits, he was quickly realizing the only thing this would get him was a broken hand. Quitting while he still (hopefully) had all of his bones intact, he shifted around uncomfortably, trying to get into a position where the rocks weren't assaulting his back as viciously, but only making it worse in the end. He sighed deeply, accepting his fate.

He had 15 minutes of air left.

With one last burst of defiance, he yelled for Smiff and Ross again. "Smiffy! Ross! One of you idiots help me out of here!" At this point, he was now out of breath, and getting light-headed. Judging off of the fact that he was using more air by yelling, he guessed that he was now down to ten minutes of oxygen. By now, he couldn't even tell if his eyes were open or closed; all of it looked the same. At this point, the full weight of the truth came crashing down on him.

In ten minutes, he would be dead. He would slowly suffocate, choking in this earthen coffin. Nobody would ever now about it for years, when they finally dug him out of the column of stone (assuming that was even where he was). By the time they found him, he would just be a pile of fertilizer. There would be nothing left of him, only dirt and a few tattered scraps of cloth. And that was the happy ending; the rest of them might die with him, trapped in this unnatural pillar of death. Then the entire world would be dead, and nobody would ever find out about any of them. He started silently crying, remembering from long ago some of Kim's drunken stories about her kids. They would be left alone forever, never seeing their parents again. Everybody was going to die alone because he was stupid enough to put four hungry nodes in one place. He really had ruined everything. This was... this was his fault.

At this point, he gave up. He only had five minutes left anyway. He closed his eyes, now full of tears, and fell asleep.

He never woke up.


	2. Duncan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, accidentally posted the last one, so now this is happening. Alright.

           When Duncan woke up, his head was throbbing and his right leg hurt like hell. Fluttering his eyes open, he was immediately blinded by the sun directly above him. Trying to shield his eyes, the next thing he noticed was that he was upside down, hanging by his leg. Halfway between his thigh and his knee, a giant wall of stone consumed his leg. Trying his best to awkwardly adjust it, he found that it was surrounded by stone, and accidentally positioned his calf over a large out jutting rock, making his situation that much worse. As the small crag dug into the soft flesh of his leg, he tried to use his other leg and arms to pull himself up. Barely relieving his spine, he managed to get a small foothold and pull himself up into a hugging position, where his arms were wrapped around the column. It didn't help his calf, as his body weight had suddenly shifted from pulling on the edge of the pillar to falling straight down on his right leg, and part of his left foot.

           He soon realized that he couldn't do anything. He sat like that, with the sun beating hotly overhead, the rock digging into his lower leg, his body aching and sore no matter where he moved, for what seemed like an eternity. He figured that at some point the rock had punctured his skin, as he could feel a steady stream of blood flowing down his leg. All of his muscles were burning from trying to support his entire body weight, and he was starting to get hungry. He wasn't sure how much longer he could do this.

           That was when he noticed the sky. It was no longer a light blue, but instead purple and streaked with orange clouds. He couldn't see it, but he knew that the horizon behind him was pink around the setting sun.

           "Shit," he muttered under his breath, and hugged himself close to the wall.

           This was going to be a long night.

           For the first part of the night, nothing too bad happened. Duncan was in constant fear, though, because he was constantly hearing bones rattling together, or the distant groan of a zombie, or an echoing spider's chirp. He was clinging to the stone as tightly as possible, and that might have been why nothing happened.

           For the first half.

           Then, he got too tired. He started to loosen his grip on the wall.

           He started to slip. At first he didn't notice.

           Then, it happened.

           First it was his left hand. As the allure of sleep started taking over, the rocks slipped out from his fingers, and his hand started releasing its grip on the stone. The left side of his body was slowly relaxing, falling, as his right arm started going slack, and started falling, too. His foot was slowly sliding out of the foothold. Then everything happened at once, in the blink of an eye.

           His foot fell completely out of the foothold. His weight suddenly collapsed down, and his hands were torn off of the rough column of mineral. His back arched downward, and he was once again hanging by his leg. As he fell, he was jerked awake from the light rest that had overtaken him with a yelp. As his head banged against the rock and he swung gently, he heard bones rattling in the distance.

           "Oh shit shit shit _shit!_ " He frantically tried to pull himself back up, to hug the wall again, but it was too late. A skeleton had already heard him, already seen him now. He listened, breaking a cold sweat, as the rattling of the bones drew closer until it was right beneath him. The scientist held his breath as he listened to the light clanking of bone on wood as the bow was drawn back. Those next few moments seemed to drag on forever.

           He heard the dry noise of the wood scraping against the skeleton's hand, held his breath as the noise stopped momentarily. He had that breath knocked out of him as heard the whooshing of air, the arrow shooting through the night, unseen. He felt the shock as the stone tip drove itself right between his shoulder blades, and lodged itself straight into his spine. He could feel the pain shooting through his body, his spinal cord injured. He heard the skeleton walking away, thinking he was dead.

           He tried his hardest not to moan in pain as he slightly adjusted, trying his hardest to accommodate for the projectile jabbed in his back. It burned like hell no matter where he moved, but eventually he found somewhere he could hang where his entire nervous system wasn't on fire. Trying his hardest to go back to sleep, he let whatever fitful, restless sleep he could find take him.

           He fluttered his eyes open to a light purple and pink sky, and a searing pain spreading out between his shoulder blades. He let out a gurgled cry when he first woke up, not remembering how he got there. Then, as it all came flooding back to him, his shock turned into a low moan. A tight grip was closing over his chest; his breathing was labored now. Was it like this last night? Probably. He tried to sit up, immediately realizing that every slight movement of his back sent flaring pain up and down his spine. He definitely didn't remember this from last night.

           As he settled back into position, a wave of pain spread out up and down his spine, extending itself into every limb of his body and climbing through his ribs, gripping his heart. It slowly sunk back, and his lungs started burning. He started wheezing, coughing up blood into his arm. The jerking movement it caused sent even more pain through his back, causing him to let out what sounded like a half-groan, half-yell. The more he writhed in pain, the more it hurt, and so he kept twisting and contorting his body into agonizing positions. This cycle of pain and suffering kept going until he felt an extremely sharp pain in his back, followed by the first relief he had felt since he woke up.

           His entire body went numb. As he slowed down, he realized how much energy he had taken up just from twisting and turning, alone, on the column. He decided that a quick nap couldn't hurt, just to regain some of his strength. After all, that fitful and restless "sleep" he had gotten last night had done little to nothing for him. Surely one quick power nap would help...

           He closed his eyes and let his body go slack, embracing the call of the darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> >:D


End file.
